


so casually cruel (in the name of being honest)

by nolanpatty



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, No beta we die lie men, Strome to Seattle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27584774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolanpatty/pseuds/nolanpatty
Summary: Dylan's done hurting himself over Connor.
Relationships: Connor McDavid/Dylan Strome
Comments: 29
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> did i even read this before posting it? no. i blacked out. i have no idea what this is. maybe ask questions and you'll get more random shitty parts hahaha

The screaming only feels new because it’s been years.

The burning rage in Dylan’s chest only feels fresh because Connor’s torn him open again.

The fighting only feels scary because he almost forgets that it isn’t 2015.

The tears on Connor’s cheeks only feels vindicating because he seems to have forgotten that he deserves it all. 

“Don’t,” Dylan heaves, his chest rising and falling, “I can’t do this again.”

Connor doesn’t respond, instead he steps closer to Dylan, reaches a hand out but doesn’t touch. Fucking good, there’s no chance in hell Dylan would let him anyway. Maybe if this happened when he was still with Arizona, it’d be different. Fuck, maybe even while he was a Hawk. 

But it’s fucking six years later, and Dylan’s on his third team in as many years. He was never going to be the darling of hockey that Connor was, but it still didn’t mean Connor had to leave him like he did. Didn’t mean he had to keep coming back every time they were in the same place like this. 

Besides, Dylan was better off without Connor. He was a second line center for the Seatlle Kraken, and his team was fucking good. He was at his first All Star games ever. A voice in the back of his head reminds himself that it’s Connor’s fourth. 

“Stromer,” Connor pleas. 

“What the fuck do you want Connor?” Dylan screams as he takes a step away from him, burying himself further into his hotel room. “What could you possibly have to say to me this time? What have I done wrong this time?” 

“I-” Connor’s eyes are wide, pleading with Dylan, wet around the brims, and Dylan just hates him so much. 

“No!” Dylan says, “Really? What is it? I should have been sent down earlier. Should have played better. I’m capable of playing better. Shouldn’t have gotten traded. Shouldn’t have lived in Alex’s shadow. Shouldn’t have gotten traded a second time. Fucking what is it this time Connor? What great wisdom do you have from me that only Connor McDavid the fucking savior of hockey could only have for me? I’m all fucking ears.” 

“I miss you,” Connor says lamely.

“I don’t care,” Dylan says easily. 

Connor swallows and has the audacity to look hurt, as if he hasn’t been hurting Dylan for years. 

He wraps his arms around himself and looks smaller than Dylan’s seen him in a long time. He stares at his feet for a moment. Dylan looks at the clock and sees that it’s two in the morning. He’d rather be sleeping. He’d actually rather be doing anything else. 

“It’s not simple.” Connor whispers.

“What isn’t?” 

“Me.” He shrugs.

Dylan snorts. “You’re the simplest they come, hate to tell you.” 

Connor glares at him, and Dylan feels a stroke of pride in that. Getting an emotion out of Connor is a bit like getting teeth pulled. 

“You care about one thing,” Dylan explains, “really doesn’t get any more simple.” 

“If all I cared about was the hockey, then I wouldn’t be here.” Connor mutters. 

“Oh, you thought I meant hockey?” Dylan laughs feeling a bit manic, “No, Connor, I meant you. You care about you. You care about being the best at hockey, not because you care about hockey but because you care about you. Just like you’re here, not because you care about me, but because you care about the fact that you’re feeling a little sad.” Dylan meets his eyes, “You forget that I know you better than anyone else. You can’t hide behind the charade of hockey here.” 

“How do you tell someone,” Connor starts, shuffling his feet, “that the reason you’re sad is because you’re in love with them?” 

Dylan laughs. He actually laughs, and Connor looks like he’s breaking to pieces.

“Oh,” Dylan says as a breath of a laugh, “You’re serious? You came here to tell me you still love me?” Dylan tilts his head and looks at Connor in pity. 

Connor doesn’t respond, which is probably for the better.

“That’s a pity, really” Dylan says. “You have everything, Connor, and you really can’t be happy with it? You have to come back every couple months or so, remind me how much you’ve hurt me, and for what? To make yourself feel? To remember that we used to be something better? That’s a shame that you haven’t learned to grow up.” 

“I know I haven’t always been great,” Connor whispers.

“No,” Dylan speaks over him, “You’ve been incredibly awful, Connor. You spent the first four years of my career tearing me down to nothing, every chance you got. I was screaming at the top of my lungs trying to get help, but you not only never noticed, but you took the chance to hurt me even more. And you want me to believe you love me? Connor you know nothing of love.”

“I know that I miss you every day I go to sleep alone. I know I’m better when you’re with me. I know that I hate not being close to you anymore.”

“None of that is about loving me, it’s about you.” Dylan squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Once again, you’re too self centered to see past yourself. Fuck, Connor. It sucks you’re sad. It sucks that you can’t figure out how to be a better person on your own, but it’s not my fucking job to be that for you. I might not have known that at the age of seventeen, but I know it now. You’ve got to figure that shit out on your own.” 

“You don’t love me too?” Connor whispers.

“You don’t want the answer to that,” Dylan shakes his head.

“Lie to me then,” Connor begs.

“You need to leave, Connor.”

“I can’t, Dylan, please, I can’t do this without you.”

Dylan shakes his head, “Should have considered that before you left me, but every choice you made is a choice that got us to this point right here. It didn’t just happen to us, you did this to us.” He shrugs, “I needed you once, and you didn’t care. At least now you know what it feels like, but I won’t hurt myself anymore trying to save you.” 


	2. he saved himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh you thought i was done? more pointless content from me in this weird universe i created in the middle of the night because i had a hankering for angst, well here is some more!

Seattle felt like a dream. It wasn’t always like that. At first it had felt like a curse. The harsh reality of yet another team not wanting him, maybe a double edged sword. One team throws him away, while another sweeps in to save him. Dylan hadn’t thought he needed saving. He’d learned how to save himself pretty early on in his career. 

Dylan spent his years in the juniors doing the saving for other people. Not a captain until his last year, but he’d acted like one anyway. A prop to hold up the ones better than him, but he hadn’t minded because he loved his team. He loved his captain. 

Probably would have died for him. 

But he’d learned to save himself. Shipped off to Arizona with nothing to show but new jersey colors. Connor wouldn’t admit it, but he abandoned Dylan the moment he was drafted. He stuck around to see it happen, but everything after that was Dylan on his own. And he’d learned to save himself. He’d learned not to rely on anyone but himself. Because even the more important, most steady, most constant people in the end were unreliable. 

Fool him once. 

He won’t be fooled twice. 

Connor may have abandoned him, but Dylan was never surprised to see him reappear. Connor had this way of playing victim. He had a way of soundly lonely and lost as if he weren’t responsible for exactly how he got there. Lonely because he isolated himself and cut everyone off because he’d expected being in Edmonton to do it anyway. He’d just pulled the trigger faster. Lost. Number one draft pick, generational talent, the next one, the greatest hockey player of their time and yet he floundered helplessly without someone to guide him.

Dylan used to guide him.

That wasn’t his job anymore.

Dylan wasn’t quite sure how Connor expected things to go every time he showed up, burning hot with an anger that wasn’t even his to have in the first place. Seething as if Dylan had left Connor to rot in Edmonton, when Connor was the one who hadn’t picked up the phone. 

No, Connor only showed up when it was good for him. When it served him well. When it made him feel good about himself. 

The best hockey player in the league, and he still searches for validation in Dylan. 

Seventeen year old Dylan would have fawned. He would have folded so quickly just to grab a hold of Connor. Just to touch him. To run his fingers through his hair or to feel that new scruff that was growing in. He would have begged Connor to take him back, he would have promised him anything even if he couldn’t give it to him. Seventeen year old Dylan was weak. He thought he was selfless, putting Connor’s needs above his own always. He wasn’t selfless, he was just needy. He needed Connor to love him. It gave him a sense of pride. A purpose. 

Dylan didn’t need Connor for that anymore though. He’d learned to save himself. He had to. It’s the only way he survived. Trade after trade after another goddamn trade. Dylan could only rely on himself. Connor couldn’t offer Dylan anything he couldn’t get himself. 

Even so, he misses Connor occasionally. But he doesn’t call. He doesn’t go out to find him. He doesn’t reach for him because Dylan misses him, but he doesn’t love him. Maybe he did once. But Dylan saw who Connor really was. A selfish, cruel, heartbroken, empty person. He took and took and he took because it’s the only way he knows how to survive. Dylan gave him everything because it was how Dylan knew how to survive.

But he’s learned. He doesn’t need to be needed by Connor. He doesn’t need his love, his affection, his praises. He only needs himself. He doesn’t need Connor’s empty love. He doesn’t need Connor’s pathetic excuse of a friendship. 

Maybe Connor needs Dylan, but Dylan certainly doesn’t need Connor. 

He learned to save himself. 

And saving himself, always meant leaving Connor and never going back. 


End file.
